I was reminded of this song while noodling through YouTube. A song so powerful, it was used by the United Nations to mark “The Year of the Woman.” At that time no doubt we all thought women’s rights were a foregone conclusion.

Yeah, about that… We’ll get there eventually. In 1975 I was finishing up my career with horses. I wasn’t thinking much about women’s rights since jobs in horses are filled by people willing to work, and you keep working according to how well you do the job. Young females are often hired since they crave being close to horses. If I had not fallen for Salukis I’d possibly still be cleaning stalls and picking out hooves.

Where I worked with horses, everyone did everything, with no thought of how heavy that bale of hay might be, or how fussy we had to be about cleaning tack. You just did the job until it was done. This continued as I worked in a wide variety of jobs. By the time I married I was accustomed to doing what I could when I could. My husband took over some of the harder jobs, as long a it didn’t require climbing a ladder (he had issues with heights.) Since he died, I’ve once again handled what needed to be done.

Which brings me to my recent roaring adventure. After the well went dry we were hauling

Truck, snow, camper shell

our water from a local source, using a 250 gallon tank on a trailer. I’ve shared some of the adventures with the trailer. This winter a blizzard moved in, leaving behind a mass of packed snow and ice that refused to melt. Hauling the trailer with the truck became problematic. Then the truck skidded into the trailer. and messed up the hitch. Oops.

While ice predominated on the local lane, using the hitch was a moot point since there was no safe way to haul a trailer with 2,000 pounds of water on board up the icy covered road. I busied myself with hauling water in five gallon containers, lifting those forty pound containers over my head to pour into the cistern. Great exercise. Seriously. Not a great long term solution.

Tank on trailer

After some thought I came upon an elegant solution to the issue. I could buy a new trailer (expensive!) have a larger cistern installed to have commercial water delivery (even more expensive, and time consuming) or, I could transfer that water carrier to the bed of the truck. This would mean removing the camper shell, and figuring out how to get that tank up and in.

Nothing a strong woman can’t do. Even better when you have two strong, determined women. The camper shell was going to a chicken farmer. Once I removed the fasteners and loosened the shell with a pry bar (I love my tools!) the two of us lifted it off. Step one!

Truck, no camper shell

Using straps, wedges, and a bit of creative thought, I got that tank onto the truck bed. Yes, I could have asked my very

Tank, moving up to truck bed

helpful neighbor and had it been onerous I would. But the feeling of accomplishment was just too tempting.

Hi Monica! I’m changing internet providers and have a new email address. Please email me at: 123rbost@gmail.comÂ I hope you and all your four-leggeds are well! Stot just got over a nasty bout of pancreatitis. Once he got rehydrated he was much much better! We are doing the anti nausea, antibiotic thing for the next few days along with the bland diet which he loves! Instead of rice I’m offering orzo and he goes at it with gusto. It’s difficult to keep weight on him.Anyway, he seems to be back to his old self today and I am eternally grateful after the day we spent yesterday! God bless Karen Frost… She called the vet with her credit card number and the bill was paid before I left the parking lot! Cheers!”Romayne’s Gigi” (god I hate that moniker!)Regina (Gigi) Bost(aka Libby Katz ð) PS forgive me if I have sent these photos before, I just love them!